


no chance, no way

by cantando_siempre



Series: in a moment of breathless delight [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Enjolras and Cosette Are Foster Siblings, F/F, Hercules (1997) References, Hercules - The Musical, M/M, Theatre AU, azelma's also a little shit, background enjoltaire, bi/lesbian disasters, cosette is the makeup artist, gavroche and azelma are the faves, grantaire is the choreographer, insane pining, personal pine forests, so is gavroche, éponine won't say she's in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 04:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantando_siempre/pseuds/cantando_siempre
Summary: Éponine doesn’t have a crush on Cosette.~Éponine’s walking to the theatre for that night's show when she realizes.She’s walking, and then she’s not walking anymore.  She’s standing in the middle of a busy New York street, her coffee held limply in her hand, and she’s in love.Éponine’s in love, and she smiles.~Definitely not.-or: tiny almost-but-not-quite-girlfriends have frequent gay disasters, the thérnadier sibs are the greatest, éponine is a gem, and grantaire needs to butt out - completed!





	no chance, no way

**Author's Note:**

> wow i've been working on this for ages and it's doNE  
> i literally started this... i don't know how long ago? two months? three? but i finished! and i'm v v proud tbh  
> warnings - cursing (sh**, dam*, pi**, fu**), arguing, nothing else as far as i know  
> credits - obviously credit to hercules the disney movie, susan egan for being amazing and giving us 'i won't say i'm in love', samantha massell for her cover of the song which inspired this in the first place, and @eposettemyass on tumblr for a particular text post that inspired a eposette conversation in this fic!

Enjolras needs to get his shit together and just ask Grantaire out already, because Éponine’s coffee addiction is suffering. 

Currently, Éponine’s splayed on the hardwood floor below her tiny apartment’s main window, surrounded by sheaves of sheet music and scores that blur before her eyes as she guzzles what’s honestly the shittiest coffee she’s ever had.  Definitely a new low for the Musain, although it is re-heated two-day-old coffee that Enjolras had made immediately after meeting Grantaire.  The coffee had no chance from the start.   

Neither had Éponine. 

“Term paper kicking your ass?” 

“Language,” Éponine scolds Gavroche absentmindedly, releasing her mug to his sticky-fingered grasp and holding out a convenient paper towel as he promptly spits his mouthful on the ground.  “You can clean up that shit.  What’s ‘Zelma up to?” 

“Raiding your closet from something ‘cute’,” he gags.  “She’s going out with her  _Bring It On_  cast after your audition tonight and Marie’s gonna be there.” 

“Ép, your clothes are gay as shit!” echoes Azelma’s voice from down the hall. 

“Language!” Éponine yells back.  “Stop making my closet as depressing as that French musical you’re always screeching about!” 

Azelma tumbles out of Éponine’s room, her choppy hair looking like an electrocuted porcupine.  “Ép, what do I do?” she moans.   

“Marie crisis?” 

“General crisis!” 

“So…general Marie bi crisis?  Loving the bi bob, by the way.” 

“Just…a crisis!” 

“I’m out,” Gavroche groans, sauntering to the door. 

“Find the Terror Twins and drop ‘em at Musichetta’s while you’re out, Gav,” Éponine calls.  “If they’ve messed with someone we like, apologize; if it’s someone we don’t like…” 

“Run and throw a smoke bomb.” 

“Yep.”  

“Add a curse word?” 

“Nope.” 

“Damn.” 

“Nope.” 

“Worth a try.” Gavroche shrugs.  He slams their dented door, providing perfect emphasis for the way Azelma’s face slumps.  

“Seriously though,” she sighs, sinking to the floor and sprawling across Éponine’s sheet music.  Looks like Éponine’s going to be failing her Classical Theory exam. 

“Alright,” Éponine concedes, sweeping her materials aside and perching herself behind Azelma to start a fishtail braid in her sister’s hair.  “What’s going on?” 

“I just – Marie’s been weird lately.” 

“How so?” 

“During Tech last week, we were running Danielle and Campbell’s scene – you know, the one during ‘We’re Not Done’, and I reached out for her hand – ‘cuz Miss Cosette said to help our scene partners out and give them more acting moments, so I figured I would do something unexpected plus I really wanted to hold her hand and she was being weird, but she flinched away.  Then later, we were sitting next to each other during notes, and she rested her head on my shoulder and played with my hair, and I’m so confused, because she’s sending confusing signals and I don’t knowwhat’s going  _on_  with her!” 

“Take a deep breath, kid,” Éponine interjects.  “What are you looking for with her tonight?” 

“I don’t  _know_!” 

“Ok, alright.  You wanna know what I think?” 

“Sure?” 

“I think she was just surprised, and honestly ‘Zelma?  She probably wanted to hold your hand too.  You’re the bold one in your relationship, and she goes along with what you initiate.  She was probably pissed with herself because she missed her opportunity, and so she took another one when it presented itself to her.” 

“So what do I do?” 

“Do whatever you feel comfortable with.  Want to hold her hand?  Be the best hand-holding duo ever.  Want to touch her hair?  Make a bomb-ass braid and play with her hair.  Want to kiss her?  Be the sweetest and most respectful girl ever and kiss the damn girl.  You gotta kiss the girl,” Éponine grins. 

“Stop quoting Little Mermaid at me.”  

“No.” 

“I’m going to look for something halfway decent in your closet.” 

“Go to town.” 

“Thanks Ép,” Azelma says, pulling herself up from the floor and kissing Éponine on the cheek. 

“Love you ‘Zelma.  You’re gonna do great.” Éponine smiles. 

“Love you too!” 

*** 

Éponine’s pretty sure she’s never felt so proud before.  Azelma’s dug out her denim jacket (emblazoned with  _bi the way_ ) and paired it with some red lipstick and eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man. 

“Who taught you eyeliner like that?” Éponine asks, impressed.  When she tried to teach Azelma eyeliner, Éponine stabbed her in the eye with her pen despite sporting winged liner almost every day for the last decade. 

“Cosette,” Azelma beams.  “She was teaching me the flip for the end of the main  _Bring It On_  stunt and then helped me with my stage makeup since I asked her about Marie.  She’s  _insane_ with acrobatics!  I think she does parkour and rock climbing too.” 

Cosette rock climbs. 

Cosette does parkour. 

Cosette taught Éponine’s sister how to put on eyeliner. 

Cosette comforted Éponine’s sister about her bi crush. 

Éponine’s not sure whether to be envious or attracted by how good of a big sister Cosette can apparently be. 

“Don’t worry, Ép,” Azelma adds quickly.  “The lipstick was a you touch.” 

Éponine wants to melt. 

“Go get your girl, ‘Zelma,” Éponine smirks.  “You done in the bathroom?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Great, I’m going to do some warmups for the audition.  Is Gav coming back soon?  He should’ve dropped the Terrors over at Musichetta’s already.” 

“Yep, he just texted.  I can print your résumé for you.” 

“Thanks, ‘Zel!” Éponine tosses over her shoulder as she darts into her bedroom. 

***

Éponine’s not sure she’s ever wanted a job as much as this one. 

Azelma and Gavroche’s theatre school recently announced that their host theatre is producing  _Hercule_ _s_ _the Musical_ as an Off-Broadway production, and they obviously need a cast.  Éponine wasn’t going to audition initially, what with her dance choreo final coming up and her senior college theatre showcase and her voice teacher up her ass for needing to strengthen her head voice, but after much pleading from Azelma and Gavroche’s multiple surprise force-watchings of the Disney  _Hercules_  movie, she ended up giving in and frantically preparing for the audition.  Obviously Megara’s the dream, but she’d honestly take ensemble or a Muse what with how challenging the show is. 

It also doesn’t hurt that Cosette is going to be the makeup artist. 

Speaking of… 

“What are you doing here?” Éponine asks Cosette curiously as she slides into the seat next to Éponine’s where she’s waiting to audition.  “I didn’t think you performed anymore.” 

“Oh, I could never totally give it up,” Cosette giggles.  “Just took a break for a little while; Enj needed more help at the Café since it started getting popular.  Plus, we’ve both adored the Disney  _Hercules_  since we were little, so there’s no way I could pass this up.” 

“Who are you going for?” 

“Probably just ensemble or Muse,” Cosette shrugs.  “I’m honestly not sure I’d have time for anything else, and my voice isn’t quite right for Megara.  You?” 

“Megara, hopefully,” Éponine grins sheepishly. 

“Oh, you’d be  _perfect_ ,” Cosette bursts.  “You’re so –  you just –” 

“Yeah?” 

Is Cosette  _blushing_? 

“You just seem like a Megara,” she finishes. 

“Let’s hope the casting directors think so too,” Éponine mutters, chewing on her bottom lip. 

“They will.” 

“They will?” 

“They will.” 

“We’ll see.” 

Hearing her name called, Éponine stands, wobbling slightly. 

“Best of luck! Break a leg!” Cosette chirps, bouncing up and hugging her suddenly.  Cosette’s arms curl around Éponine’s waist, and Éponine melts into her a bit before her eyes widen behind Cosette’s back.   

“You too,” Éponine stutters. 

“See you on the other side,” Cosette sings. 

It’s definitely not the best idea to go into an audition after realizing you have a crush on your siblings’ dance teacher. 

***

The audition could’ve gone worse.  

It definitely could’ve gone worse. 

That’s about as optimistic as Éponine will let herself be. 

She’s on her way with Gavroche to pick up Azelma from the roller rink where her  _Bring It On_  cast had their closing party.  After she picks Azelma up, Éponine’s going to drop her and Gavroche off at home and go back out to check on the  _Hercules_  cast list.  As she turns the corner, Éponine screeches the car to a halt (thankfully, in a parking lot and not in the middle of a street).   

Her little sister is kissing Marie outside of a Broadway-themed roller rink. 

Her 17-year-oldsister is  _making out_  with her  _crush_. 

Gavroche is fake-throwing-up in the backseat.  Éponine’s face is split with a grin so wide her face actually hurts. 

Gavroche leans forward and honks the car horn. 

“Gavroche!” Éponine scolds.   

“I don’t  _want_ to see my sister making out with Marie!  I don’t want to see my sister making out with anyone!” he wails. 

Azelma chooses that precise moment to slide into the front seat, and her dark skin tinges violently.  “Shut  _up,_ Gav,” she moans.  Peering out the window, a small smile hovers on her lips as she waves back to Marie, who’s leaning on the wall of the roller rink with a stupidly sappy grin. 

Éponine is suddenly struck with a disturbing realization. 

 _Her little sister has more of a love life than she does._  

***

 _Éponine_ _got cast._  

 _Éponine_ _got the_ lead _._  

 _Éponine_ _got Megara._  

Cosette was right. 

 _Éponine’s_ _going to be in a show with Cosette._  

 _Oh, shit._  

***

“So?” 

Éponine screams, almost dumping over her face wash.  “What the  _hell_ , ‘Zelma? You can’t just barge in the bathroom!  It’s 2 in the morning and you have school at 8!” 

“Gav’s up too!” she whines. 

“Hey!” 

“What do you little shits need?” 

“Did you get the part?” 

Azelma’s literally vibrating. 

“What part?” Éponine teases. 

“Épo _nine_ _,_   _please_ ,” Gavroche moans. 

“Yeah, I got it,” Éponine mumbles, a small smile sneaking onto her face. 

Now it’s Azelma’s turn to scream.  “I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!  Who’s Hercules?” 

“Marius.” Éponine mutters. 

“Oh –” 

“No, listen, it’ll be fine,” she assures.  “I’ve been done with him for a while.  Kind of moved on,” she adds under her breath. 

Azelma’s resulting gasp makes Éponine worry for her lung health.  Before her and Gavroche can start interrogating her, Éponine shoos them out of the bathroom and off to bed, knowing full well they’ll grill her soon enough and finding herself oddly content with the fact. 

***

Grantaire has had a shit-eating grin fixed on his face since the minute Éponine walked into the dingy café he’s been hiding out at (read: avoiding Enjolras).  She’s a bit concerned as to how someone can grin sadistically for that long without needing cheek surgery. 

“So?” 

“So what?” Éponine fires back. 

“Who do you have a crush on?” 

“Not you too,” she groans dramatically.  “What are we, third graders?  Did Gav and ‘Zelma put you up to this?” 

“Totally.” 

“Chill.” 

“So are you gonna tell me?” 

“Nope.” 

“Époninnnnnne,” he whines.  “Is it me?” 

“Nope.” 

“Is it Musichetta?” 

“Nope.” 

“Is it Enjolras?” 

“Honey, I’m gay.” 

“Irrelevant; it’s Enjolras.” 

“Nope, it’s just you who turns into a pine tree around him.” 

“I’m the Daphne to his Apollo,” he sighs.  “Except he’s not chasing me.” 

“No, because he can’t even find you to ask you out because you’re  _hiding._ Andin this dump, too,” she points out.  A passing waiter dressed in black velvet with elegantly floppy hair and an atrocious tartan-patterned handkerchief around his neck levels her with a glare; she raises a challenging eyebrow and he tips his head in begrudging agreement. 

“Whatever,” Grantaire mutters. “Congrats on Megara, have fun with Pontmercy tripping into your arms 24/7.  You should drop him on his ass.” 

“Don’t be mean,” she chides.  “He hasn’t done anything; I was just an in-denial gay at the time and latched on to him instead of Co — to explain weird feelings.” 

Grantaire sits for a second, studying her face carefully.  She doesn’t give him enough credit for how observant he can be. 

“How’s Cosette?”   

 _Shit_. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Éponine –” 

“You’re way off base,” she growls, glaring at Grantaire and daring him to argue.   _She must be quite scary_ , Éponine muses.  If she can make Grantaire shut up with a glare, she must be terrifying. 

Or he just feels bad for her. 

Nah, she’s terrifying. 

“Congrats to you on Dance Captain,” she chirps.  “Just to warn you ahead of time, Gav and Zelma are literally obsessed with  _Hercules_ and they’re gonna pester you nonstop until you teach them your choreo.” 

“We’re coming back to this later,” Grantaire promises.   

Éponine groans. 

“Can ‘Zelma do flips?” he asks suddenly, his face lighting up. 

“Don’t you already talk with her and Gav behind my back?” she teases.  “Ask her yourself.” 

“Gavroche says not to be mean to me,” he pouts, reading a text before slipping his phone in his back pocket. 

“All part of the friendship contract.” 

“Sure,” Grantaire deadpans.  “I gotta go work on choreo.  See you at first rehearsal tomorrow.” 

“Bye, loser.  Talk to Enjolras!” she calls after him. 

He flips her off on his way out the door. 

***

Éponine isn’t nervous. 

She can handle a first rehearsal; she’s been through plenty and they’re always the same.  You get there and feel awkward for a bit before being introduced to your stage significant other and becoming even more awkward, and then you fall into an easy groove with your castmates right around closing night. 

So, Éponine walks right into the rehearsal room without a second thought; she figures if anything she should at least try to channel Megaraand pretend she’s confident (she’s not).   

She glances around the room and sees Marius talking to Grantaire in the corner; Grantaire’s waving his hands around wildly and his mop of curls is falling over his eyes as Marius cowers back into the corner slightly (Éponine doesn’t want to know what Grantaire’s saying).  She continues scanning and notes Enjolras skulking in another corner.  He’s staring fiercely at Grantaire; somehow simultaneously looking jealous of Marius, entirely enamored with Grantaire, and concerned for Cosette, who’s…hiding behind a curtain?  Considering her options, Éponine decides for completely platonic reasons to go over and ask if Cosette’s ok. 

Platonic. 

Yeah. 

“Hey Cosette, Enjolras,” Éponine says, silently cursing herself for the flush she can feel crawling up her ears and chest. 

Éponine hears a muffled noise from behind the curtains and that’s it.  She turns to Enjolras with a questioning look in her eyes and he shrugs hopelessly, glancing over his shoulder at Grantaire again.   

“Go talk to him,” Éponine laughs, reaching over and tugging on Enjolras’s hair.  “I can handle this.” 

“You sure?” he whispers, throwing a look back at Cosette-curtain-creature. 

“Definitely.” 

Enjolras drifts away, hesitantly heading over to Grantaire, and Éponine watches Grantaire shoot her a murderous-looking glare.  With a smirk, Éponine turns back to the lump she thinks is Cosette, reaches out, and pokes the curtain.  Cosette emerges with a disgruntled little moan, her hair a mess and her lips bitten crimson. 

Éponine can  _not_ handle this. 

“What’s up?” she asks cautiously. 

“I just --” 

“Just what?” 

“Everyone here is just so talented, and I guess I suddenly got a bit insecure,” Cosette admits. 

No way. 

No  _way._  

“Cosette – I – you – to be completely honest, I haven’t even seen you dance yet.  But with the way Gavroche and Azelma come home raving about how you help them learn their choreography and Azelma bouncing with glee after you taught her how to do eyeliner, I’m certain there can’t possibly be a more amazing person in this cast.” 

Cosette raises an eyebrow, corners of her mouth twitching. “Éponine, you…that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” 

“It’s all true,” Éponine grins, watching gleefully as Cosette blushes. 

 _Success._  

***

Éponine doesn’t have a crush on Cosette. 

She doesn’t blush when Cosette rests her head on Éponine’s shoulder backstage and she doesn’t smile uncontrollably when Cosette stuffs five donut holes in her mouth at once. 

She doesn’t laugh at every corny pun Cosette makes and she doesn’t have a concerning urge to run her fingers through Cosette’s hair and twist it into a braid and maybe tug a little to see how Cosette reacts. 

Definitely not. 

***

Éponine meets up with Grantaire for after-rehearsal coffee that Thursday.  They wait in line for their usual drinks (there’s a new barista and they have to go through the whole order-listing process brand-new) and then head to sit down.  

“Still as gay as ever?” she quips as they weave through tables to their usual spot by the back window. 

“I don’t know, is Cosette?  I was getting some pretty lesbian vibes with the two of you ‘studying lines’ the other day…” Grantaire drawls as he drapes himself into a chair and taps his nails on the table. 

“Grantaire, stop,” she moans, and Grantaire’s fingers pause. 

“Stop what?” he says innocently. 

“You know what.” 

“Ooh, the perfect work-relationship,” Grantaire muses, fingers drumming incessantly on the table again.  Éponine notices that they’re painted pine-green, and guesses Azelma must have done them for him last time he came over.  “Doing a choreographed dance together, getting jealous of the person you’re playing opposite, making out after rehearsal in the dressing rooms...” 

“It's too cliché,” Éponine gags, swirling her straw around in her coffee cup and coughing violently when she takes a sip.  “God, R, this coffee is shit,” she chokes.  “That new barista needs some serious help.” 

“Are you even denying it anymore?” Grantaire asks, eyes softening. 

Éponine refuses to answer. 

“’Ponine, you gotta own up to it at some point,” he says gently. 

“Why bother?” Éponine scoffs.  “No one is worth the aggravation --” 

“Not even Cosette?” 

“-- irrelevant, and who are you to talk with your personal pine forest?” she points out.   

It’s Grantaire’s turn to change the subject.  “I have to go finish choreographing, it’s due tomorrow,” he says.  “Just... think about what I said?” 

Éponine grunts.  She hears Grantaire humming as he rifles through his bag, and she absent-mindedly tries to catalogue the tune as she doggedly drains the remains of her drink.  It’s... _Helpless?_  

 _What?_  

“On second thought, you seem suspiciously happy,” Éponine says slowly, leaning forward in her chair and examining Grantaire’s face.  He’s got a slight tint to his cheeks that he tries to hide as he closes his bag, and he’s gnawing on his lip.  “Did you  _kiss him_?” Éponine shrieks.  

“No!” he hisses, latching onto Éponine’s arm and dragging her down the empty hall near the restrooms. 

“Careful R, we don’t want you cheating on Enjolras,” Éponine drawls. 

“I’m  _gay_ ,” he sighs. 

“Aren’t we all?” 

“I didn’t kiss Enjolras.” 

Éponine stares him down. 

“But I  _may_ have been talking to him andreferenced having a crush on someone and then mentioned right after that I like blondes?” he offers. 

Éponine actually squeals. 

Disgusting. 

***

“Cosette?” Éponine calls, venturing down the hall.  She’s looking for Cosette’s shared dressing room; she’s got some questions about her makeup for the first act.  Coming up on Cosette’s door, she knocks, but when she doesn’t get an answer she slides through the open door to see if Cosette’s there. 

Oh, she’s there alright. 

 _And with a glaring lack of a shirt,_  Éponine notes. 

Éponine vaguely hears a small choking noise, and then registers that it’s her when she feels her fingernails digging into her palms at the sight of Cosette’s tan, smooth back, her shoulderblades jutting out slightly and lace bra straps criss-crossing in an intricate pattern.  “Um, Cosette?” she manages. 

“Éponine!” Cosette squeaks, stumbling around in surprise.  Unexpectedly, the sudden movement brings her and Éponine chest-to-chest in the small dressing room, and Éponine inhales sharply.  Cosette’s breath is blowing across Éponine’s throat, making Éponine shudder, and Éponine’s eyes flicker down to Cosette’s lips.   

They’re so  _close_. 

Éponine watches Cosette’s cheeks flush and the color spread down her neck and across her chest, and Éponine struggles to snap her eyes back up to Cosette’s face instead of following the flush’s trail  _down_.  “What, um --” Cosette slowly takes a step backward, and Éponine curses inwardly at having probably made her uncomfortable -- “what did you need?  Not that I don’t love having you here, because I do – wait – um – yeah, you're always welcome, except maybe I should put my shirt on --”  

Cosette literally slaps a hand over her mouth to stop her own rambling, and Éponine thinks she may melt into a puddle right here.  Cosette swoops down and grabs her discarded shirt, tugging it on as her head pops out of the neck.  Her hair’s all ruffled and frizzy, and Éponine somehow finds herself darting forward to smooth it down even as her brain screeches at her.  “Here, let me just get this for you,” she murmurs, fingers deftly combing through Cosette’s hair.  She halts for a second when she thinks she hears Cosette give a barely-there sigh of pleasure, but chalks it up to wishful thinking and finishes quickly, stepping back.  “Perfect, as usual,” she hums. 

Cosette blushes furiously and undeniably. 

“So, what did you want help with?” she stammers out. 

“Oh, just some makeup, but I think I’ve got to go get Gav and ‘Zelma now,” Éponine says.  “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow after rehearsal?” 

“Sounds good to me,” Cosette confirms, still sounding suspiciously breathless.   

 _Maybe Cosette has asthma,_ Éponine concludes. 

***

“Hey, Cosette!” Éponine says cheerfully the next morning.  “Mind showing me some makeup tips after rehearsal today?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Cosette mumbles, tapping away on her phone. 

“Great,” Éponine says, trailing off and eventually ducking into her dressing room when it becomes apparent Cosette doesn’t feel like talking.  She wonders if she did something to upset Cosette. 

Éponine’s distracted all day.  She forgets her lines and misses notes, causing Montparnasse to yell at her, and almost slaps Marius across the face by accident when she’s not paying enough attention.  She flops into her uncomfortable chair at her makeup table at the end of the day, breathing deep before pulling herself up and gathering her stuff to head out.  As she’s zipping up her bag, there’s a light knock at the door.  “Come in,” Éponine calls. 

Cosette peeks through the door. 

“Oh, hey Cosette,” Éponine hums, standing up to hug her in greeting.  Cosette’s always been touchy with everyone, but she seems to tense up when Éponine gets near her and so Éponine does an awkward wave instead.  “What brings you here?” 

“You wanted help with your makeup?” 

“Oh, yeah, I was just hoping you could show me what Meg’s eyeliner should look like? I’m good with regular eyeliner but I always struggle with how much to put on for stage.” 

“Sure,” Cosette says quietly, accepting Éponine’s eyeliner pen when she places it in her hand.  Éponine lets her fingers brush lightly against Cosette’s palm and her stomach drops when Cosette noticeably flinches away.   

Cosette proceeds to do Éponine’s eyeliner faster than she thought was possible, somehow managing to not touch Éponine’s face at all throughout the whole process, and practically sprints out of the room when she’s done. 

At least Éponine knows how Cosette feels about her now. 

Problem is, it’s definitely not the answer she wanted. 

Pretty far from it, in fact. 

***

“We need to talk,” Grantaire says seriously, stepping in front of Éponine on her way out of rehearsal a couple days later. 

“Come with me,” Éponine sighs, waving goodbye to Combeferre from where he’s perched in the orchestra pit, laughing with Courfeyrac. 

Éponine and Grantaire walk to her apartment in silence, New York’s lights flickering off of Grantaire’s thick-rimmed ‘artist glasses’ from where he walks next to her.  She unlocks her door, realizing when she gets inside and it’s quiet that Gavroche and Azelma are sleeping over at Musichetta and Joly and Bossuet’s house tonight. 

Éponine toes off her shoes and slinks into the kitchen, pouring Grantaire a glass of water and snagging her spare water bottle from their rickety, unbalanced kitchen table. 

“What’s up?” she asks, sinking into the couch as Grantaire sits across from her. 

“What’s going on with you and Cosette?” 

“Cutting straight to the chase, aren’t we,” Éponine chuckles.  “Grantaire, you know I love you, but how exactly is this your business?” 

“Enjolras says Cosette’s moping, and you’re obviously moping too, so I’m considering it my business to get the two of you to sort your shit out.” 

“Good luck with that,” Éponine snickers.  “Long story short, I’m pretty convinced she hates me and thinks I’m a creep, so I think you’ll have to find something else to talk with Enjolras about.” 

“Can’t you just tell her how you feel?  You know she feels the same,” Grantaire pleads. 

“That scene won’t play,” Éponine laughs bitterly, heaving herself up and heading toward her bedroom to change out of her rehearsal clothes. 

“You don’t know it won’t,” Grantaire huffs, rising to his feet to follow her. 

“And you don’t know it will, Grantaire, so piss off.” 

“Face it like a grown-up!” Grantaire groans, grabbing Éponine by the shoulders.  She swats his hands off and keeps going, but he doesn't back down.  “You keep saying she won’t feel the same, but how the hell can you know unless you ask?  I didn’t know you were suddenly some sort of psychic.” 

“Grantaire --” 

“No, listen.  I got my shit together and talked to Enjolras, so why can’t you do the same?  Are you seriously that scared of her rejecting you?” 

“Get off my  _case_! _”_  Éponine finally explodes, whirling around and jabbing a finger into Grantaire’s chest.  “You don’t know shit, Grantaire, so stop acting like you do and just leave me the  _fuck_ alone!” 

“Fine!” Grantaire spits.  “Good fucking luck, Thénardier!” 

“Don’t call me that,” Éponine hisses. 

“Have fun!” Grantaire yells over his shoulder as he slams the door.  Éponine collapses on the couch and fists her hands in her hair, thinking. 

Éponine thinks, and tries furiously not to cry. 

She fails at that too. 

***

Rehearsal is hell without Grantaire. 

It’s the day after their fight, and Éponine’s not sure she can take it. 

She walked in thirty minutes late this morning after valiantly attempting to cake on enough makeup to make it look like she hadn’t cried for hours the night before, and barely managed to drop Azelma and Gavroche at school on time since they were practical zombies after staying up with her.  She passes Grantaire in the hallways and tries to catch his eye, but he chooses to focus on the box he’s carrying instead.  She offers to help and he doesn’t answer, and  _he probably won’t talk to you for a while, why would he?_  she snaps at herself. 

Sometimes Éponine hates herself. 

Now is one of those times. 

She sees Grantaire and Enjolras whispering together while Combeferre goes over the opening number with her, and wonders if they’re talking about her.  She wouldn’t be surprised if Grantaire never talks to her again; he’s got Enjolras now and she hasn’t exactly been a good friend. 

She’s been a pretty shitty one, in fact.  

Which she’s now reminded of, as she tries violently to yank her water bottle out of Grantaire’s grip while they face off across the theater’s kitchen counter. 

“Just give it to me, would you?” she pleads, refusing to look him in the eye.  “I just want to go, and I won’t say anything, just give me my damn water bottle.” 

“Éponine --” 

“No, I don’t want --” 

“Éponine!” 

 _“What?”_  

“I’m not gonna fight with you forever, ‘Ponine.  It’s not good for either of us, and I can’t exactly be telling you to figure shit out with Cosette if the two of us can’t even look at each other.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Éponine cries, finally letting go and dropping her hands to the counter.  “You were trying to help and I was a piece of shit, what else is there to say?” 

“I acted shitty too.” 

“No, Grantaire, don’t start --” 

“I’m serious, ‘Ép, just shut up for a second.” 

Éponine shuts up. 

“You do need to talk to Cosette --” Éponine opens her mouth and Grantaire holds up a hand -- “but it's none of my business when or if you do.  You were shitty, yeah, but so was I, and so let’s just agree on a mutual apology and get this out of the way.  Agreed?” 

Éponine nods, walks around the counter, and grabs Grantaire in a hug.  “I’m sorry,” she whispers in his ear, and she feels Grantaire’s chest rumble with a laugh.  “What?” 

“I think that’s the first apology I've ever gotten out of you,” he laughs. 

“Oh, shut up!” 

***

It’s opening night. 

It’s opening night, and Éponine has a crush on Cosette Fauchelevent. 

Éponine has a crush on Cosette, and Cosette hasn’t said a word to her in a week and probably hates her. 

Éponine needs to focus. 

She’s sat in her dressing room pin-curling her hair to fit under her wig and her hands are shaking so bad that she drops nine pins before curling her fingers around the edge of her dresser and squeezing as hard as she can. 

A whirlwind of chestnut hair, red and white polka dots, and lemon perfume bursts through the door, and Éponine looks over to see Cosette perched on the edge of the bench, twisting a lock of her hair so tight her finger turns purple.  Éponine’s never seen her this unnerved. 

“Cosette?” Éponine ventures cautiously. 

“Yeah?” she grits out. 

“You…doing alright?” 

“Yep.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m fine, Éponine,” Cosette hisses.   

“Alright,” Éponine sighs.  “You... you can talk to me if you need to.” 

They sit in silence for a few minutes, Éponine continuing to struggle with her pin-curling and acutely aware of Cosette’s eyes on her in the mirror.  Finally, Cosette can’t seem to take it anymore and rises to her feet, padding over to stand behind Éponine and tugging the bobby pins out of her fingers.  Cosette sticks the pins in a pocket in her dress and comes back to wrap her fingers around Éponine’s, pulling them down and folding them in Éponine’s lap.  Satisfied, she begins re-twisting Éponine’s sloppy curls.  Cosette works quietly for a bit, but then Éponine hears her breath catch and Éponine hums, inviting Cosette to talk. 

“I forgot my steps for  _Zero to Hero_  and Enjolras tried to help but he’s getting a bit too stage mom and I…may have yelled at him and run away?” Cosette confesses, deflating slightly. 

Éponine bites her lip, glancing up and making sudden eye contact with Cosette in the mirror.  Her eyes are sad.  “Enjolras just loves you,” Éponine says quietly.  “My hardest show ever was  _Thoroughly Modern Millie._ It was my first real lead role where I got paid, and I stressed beyond belief about making sure everything was perfect.  Grantaire helped in his way, but there’s some things he just can’t fix.  He had trouble with accepting that.”  Éponine notices that Cosette‘s hands have stilled in her hair.   

“We didn’t talk for quite a while.” Éponine admits.  “Eventually, we sat down together.  There was quite a bit of arguing, and a fair bit of crying, but we figured everything out.  He loves me, and I love him, but we both need to give each other our space now and then.” Éponine says.  “It’ll be ok,” she reassures, feeling Cosette’s fingers lightly running across her hair.  “You’ll remember your choreo, and Enjolras will understand, and you’ll talk, and you’re gonna go out there and kill it like I know you can.  Sound good?” 

Her words drift in the air, a thin glass web connecting her to Cosette that could snap any minute, until an unspoken agreement passes between them. 

“Thanks, Ép,” Cosette sighs, her hands dropping as she sweeps around and sits next to Éponine on the bench, resting her head on Éponine’s shoulder.  “I missed you,” she whispers, curling a cautious arm around Éponine’s waist.  Éponine tenses up, her spine going ramrod straight, until she feels Cosette’s fingers tracing across her back and she subconsciously leans into Cosette’s touch. 

“Missed you too, ‘Sette,” Éponine mumbles, releasing a tiny shuddering sigh of relief. 

“I have to go,” Cosette says, getting up and going to the door as the 30-minute call sounds.  Right before she leaves she flashes Éponine a small grin, and Éponine can feel her knees go weak. 

Éponine isn’t even standing up. 

***

Opening goes by in a whirlwind, and Éponine honestly doesn’t remember most of it.  She bows to thunderous applause at the end of the show, and remembers seeing Gavroche and Azelma’s glowing faces in the front row.   

Her siblings rush backstage after, enthusiastically hugging all the cast as she tries to catch them.  Her fellow cast-mates only laugh and grin; Bossuet remarks how it’s impressive that they can sandwich Musichetta, Joly and Bossuet in one giant hug and Courfeyrac tries to secretly press a bottle of glitter into Gavroche’s hand before Éponine swoops over and snatches it.  She herds them down the stairs to the lobby, promising that they’ll see Grantaire out there if they could just  _hurry up._  

“Why do we need to hurry?” Azelma asks innocently.  “Are you looking for someone in particular?” 

“She’s looking for Cosette!” Gavroche crows.  “She wants to see her girlfriend!” 

“Gavroche, shut it,” Éponine sighs, ruffling his hair.  “Look, there’s Grantaire.  Go smother him.” 

For once, her siblings actually listen to her. 

After Éponine extracts Grantaire from her siblings’ grip, she clambers up onto his shoulders to search for Cosette in the crowd.  Seeing a flash of her high ponytail, Éponine plummets off of Grantaire and he flashes her a thumbs up as she pushes through the throng of people to try and reach Cosette.  When she finally fights her way through and tumbles to a halt in front of Cosette, she gulps at how close they are.  Cosette’s face is lit up; she’s got little loose baby hairs floating around her face that Éponine desperately wants to push back, and she smells like lemon and a hint of sweat.  Her eyes are bright; lips bitten and pink and slightly parted.  Éponine nervously runs her tongue across her lips and a pretty flush races up Cosette’s neck.   

She must be overheated. 

“Great job, Cosette,” Éponine says.  “You’re a really good dancer.” 

 _Shit, she’s such a good dancer._  

“Same to you,” Cosette stammers.  “You were – so – I mean – ”  

Éponine’s heart rate is positively alarming, but she reaches up and places her hands gently on Cosette’s shoulders.  Cosette sucks in a breath and Éponine goes to pull back, but Cosette’s fingers fly up and twine around Éponine’s, keeping her in place. 

“Sorry,” Cosette giggles, taking a deep breath.  “You were so amazing,” she says sincerely, looking up at Éponine with her eyes shining. 

“Thanks,” Éponine laughs. 

“No, I’m serious,” Cosette repeats.  “Really, take your credit.  You were phenomenal,” she insists. 

Is Éponine  _blushing_? 

No way. 

She wants to kiss Cosette so bad. 

“Ok, I’ll believe you.” 

“You’d better,” Cosette grins, stretching up and placing a kiss on Éponine’s burning cheek before winking at her. 

 _Damn._  

“Thanks, Cosette, it’s been a real slice,” Éponine drawls, and is followed by a trail of Cosette’s laughter as she whirls away. 

***

Éponine’s walking to the theatre for that night's show when she realizes. 

She’s walking, and then she’s not walking anymore.  She’s standing in the middle of a busy New York street, her coffee held limply in her hand, and she’s in love. 

Éponine’s in love, and she smiles. 

***

“Ooh, Éponine...” 

“Yeah, Gav?” 

Éponine’s hanging out with Gavroche and Azelma in an unusually large chunk of time between shows, scribbling on her script as Azelma paints her toenails and Gavroche peers at Éponine’s script over her shoulder. 

“You’re humming.” 

“Am I?  Sorry, I’ll stop,” Éponine says absentmindedly. 

“Do you know what you’re humming?” 

“I don’t, Gav, care to enlighten me?” 

Azelma’s head perks up and she smears her polish, swearing under her breath and smiling sheepishly when Éponine glares at her.  “I know!” she says, a glint in her eye. 

“You’re singing a looooove song,” they sing together. 

“What?” 

“ _I Won’t Say I’m In Love!”_ Azelma says excitedly. 

“No, I’m not.  Humming, I mean.  Not in love, but I'm not in love either.” 

“We think you are,” Gavroche challenges, pulling Éponine’s script out of her hands and clambering onto her lap.  Azelma pops up and climbs up on the arm of the couch, peering at Éponine’s slowly reddening face.   

“You are!” Azelma exclaims, cupping Éponine’s cheeks and laughing when Éponine hisses at her. 

“So what?” 

“ _So,_ who are you in love with?” 

“No one.” 

“Can we guess?” 

They seem to take her silence as an affirmative.   

“Is it Grantaire?” 

Éponine snorts. 

“Aw, I want him to be my brother though!” Gavroche groans. 

“Gav, he lets you paint on his chest and he lets Azelma give him manicures, there’s not much closer he could get to you two.” 

“Fair enough,” Azelma concedes.  “Musichetta?” 

“She’s with Joly and Bossuet, and while they’re great I can’t see how they can take any more,” Éponine laughs. 

“Is it Cosette?” Gavroche asks suddenly, and Éponine blinks.  Much like with Grantaire, she forgets how perceptive her little brother is.  Azelma gasps, almost tumbling off the couch. 

“It is!” she shrieks, watching as Éponine’s ears flush.   

“Guys --” Éponine gets ready to do damage control, but stops abruptly when Gavroche and Azelma start... cheering? 

She must be seeing things. 

No, her siblings really are jumping up and down and spinning around their tiny living room.  “Did I... miss something?” 

“Cosette’s perfect!” Azelma gushes.  “We’ve already got Grantaire, and now we’ve got Cosette!” 

“‘Zel--” 

“ _Azelma_ _,_ you can’t have Cosette all to yourself!” Gavroche whines. 

“Gav --” 

“Can too! You’ve got Grantaire!” 

“ _Guys!”_  

Their mouths snap shut. 

“I’m not with Cosette, and I’m not going to be.” Gavroche and Azelma start to talk, but Éponine holds up a hand.  “Because... because she’s not interested.” 

“But you --” 

“ _Neither_ of us are,” Éponine says finally, scooping up her script and herding her siblings to their bedrooms.  “Time for bed.” 

“We’ll get you to admit it,” Gavroche grins. 

Éponine shakes her head. 

***

The next day, Éponine’s getting ready for her act one entrance when she feels Grantaire sidle up behind her.  “ _Hon, we saw you hit the ceiling,_ ” he sings in her ear, and she smacks his chest as she feels her neck flush. 

“Piss off,” she hisses. 

“ _No chance, no way,_ ” he hums, a wicked smirk crawling across his face. 

Éponine misses her cue. 

***

After begging since before rehearsals even started, Gavroche and Azelma are finally allowed to come to the theatre and hang out before that night’s show.  Éponine spins around and pins them in place on their way out the door that morning, and warns them not to touch  _anything_ backstage, talk to Cosette at all, or be embarrassing in any way.   

She has no confidence in them following her instructions at all, but what can she do? 

She instantly regrets it. 

Éponine’s sitting and talking to Cosette on the edge of the stage while Montparnasse talks to Musichetta and the rest of the cast messes around when she suddenly hears humming.  Twisting around, she sees Grantaire, Gavroche, and Azelma in a triangle formation in the center of the stage.  Éponine frantically shakes her head at Grantaire, fearing the worst, but all he does is smirk.  Éponine turns back to Cosette to make some sort of excuse and flee the scene, but -- 

 _“Who_ _d’you_ _think you’re_ _kiddin_ _’?  She’s the earth and heaven to you_ _..._ _”_  

Éponine turns fully around to see the trio now doing Grantaire’s choreography while singing, all three of them wearing massive grins and staring her straight in the eye. 

“ _Try to keep it hidden, honey, we can see right through you.  Girl, you can’t conceal it; we know how you feel and who you’re thinking of,”_ they finish, Grantaire bowing dramatically and Gavroche and Azelma following suit.  Grantaire walks forward, bending down and whispering in Éponine’s ear. 

 _“Check the grin, you’re in love.”_  

***

Éponine walks into the apartment that night to find Gavroche and Azelma waiting for her on the couch. 

“What’s up, kiddos?” 

“Have a seat,” Azelma says grimly, and Gavroche stands up to usher her over to the loveseat across from the couch, switching on a desk lamp positioned above her head.  Éponine blinks furiously at the light, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“Uh, guys?  What’s going on?” she laughs nervously. 

“This is an in-ter-ven-ion,” Gavroche enunciates. 

“Intervention,” Azelma corrects. 

“Yeah, that.” 

“An intervention for... what, exactly?” 

Azelma holds up a copy of Cosette’s headshot and Gavroche points to it.  “Do you recognize this woman?” 

“Where did you get Cosette’s headshot?” 

“Irrelevant,” Gavroche dismisses.  “You, Éponine Jondrette, are in love with this woman, Cosette Fauchelevent.  Correct?” 

“Azelma, what’s wrong with Gav?” Éponine asks desperately. 

“Answer the question,” Azelma demands. 

“Yeah, I guess?” 

“ _Ha_!” Gavroche shrieks, jumping up on the couch and pointing at Azelma.  “I told you!” 

“I never said she wasn’t,” Azelma argues, “I just said she wouldn’t admit it!” 

“You were wrong!” Gavroche cackles, gleefully throwing Cosette’s headshot in the air. 

“Either way,” Azelma says, coming over and turning off the desk lamp as she pulls Éponine up, “I got what I wanted.” 

Éponine recognizes the glint in Azelma’s eye, and her stomach plummets.  “’Zel, what did you do?” she says frantically. 

The doorbell rings. 

“Wonder who that could be?” Gavroche grins, running over and pulling it open. 

And then Cosette rushes in. 

“Éponine, are you ok?” she stammers, hands shaking slightly.  “Azelma said it was an emergency --” 

“No, no, everything’s fine,” Éponine reassures, turning around and glaring at Azelma.  “Azelma Jondrette --” 

“Okay, bye!” Azelma chirps, dragging Gavroche into their room by the arm.  Their door slams, but Azelma and Gavroche poke their heads back out a second later. 

“ _Read our lips; you’re in love,”_  they sing in unison, shutting the door and giggling as Éponine chucks a shoe at them, cheeks burning crimson. 

She turns back around slowly, dreading Cosette’s reaction, but finds her pushing the apartment door shut with a  _click_. 

“I’m so sorry, Cosette,” Éponine groans.  “Nothing’s wrong; I didn’t even know Azelma had your number and I'm really sorry you rushed all the way over here.” 

“Oh, it’s fine.  I gave it to her after she had some questions about  _Bring It_ _On_ and Marie, so she had permission.  I’m just glad you guys are alright.” 

“Yeah,” Éponine trails off.  Cosette’s face is paler than usual, and she’s chewing on her lip. 

“So... you’re in love with someone?” 

“Yep,” Éponine hums, studying Cosette.  Her eyes are shiny and she seems to be blinking hard, her fingers picking at the hem of her shirt. 

“Have you told them?” 

“Nope.” 

“Will you?” 

“I don’t know; I’ve been trying to hint at it and they just don’t seem to get it.  Pretty sure they got creeped out.” 

“Well, then they’re stupid!” Cosette bursts. 

Éponine cocks an eyebrow. 

“I mean – well, they are! You’re amazing --” Cosette starts blushing -- “and anyone would be lucky to date you.” 

A slow grin spreads across Éponine’s face.  “I appreciate it, but they’re not stupid.  They just don’t seem to understand, I guess.” 

“Maybe you should be more obvious?” 

“How so?” 

“Like -- oh, I don’t know -- ‘hey! I love you!’” 

“You honestly think it’d work?” 

“No idea, but it’s worth a shot.” 

“I guess you’re right, then.” Éponine clenches her fists and tilts her chin up, looking Cosette in the eye.  “Cosette, I love you.” 

“Exactly!  Just like that!” 

Éponine can’t breathe.  She wants to laugh, but she can’t. 

“Oh my god --” 

“Really, Éponine --” 

“Cosette --” 

“If they don’t get that then they’re honestly too stupid for you, Ép.” 

“Cosette, it’s you.” 

“I -- what?” 

Éponine swallows hard and steps closer.  “It’s you.  I love you.” 

She can’t look at Cosette, and so she picks at her chipped nail polish and is ready to run when -- 

When Cosette hooks a hand around the back of her neck and pulls her into a kiss. 

It’s definitely the last thing Éponine ever expected, and she gasps into Cosette’s mouth.  Cosette laughs slightly, and Éponine feels her lips curve against Éponine’s as the vibration rolls down to her toes.  Cosette’s pressed up against Éponine, and she’s got one hand tracing patterns on Éponine’s neck and one cupping her waist.  Éponine hears her sigh, and she can taste mint and honey.  

Most of all, she can taste Cosette. 

Éponine’s the one to finally pull away, leaving Cosette with a hum, and her fingers subconsciously drift up to her tingling lips.  She stares at Cosette, eyes flitting over her face, and watches the blush slowly fade from her cheeks.  She eventually pulls her eyes up to Cosette’s only to find her already watching Éponine, Cosette’s eyes soft and half-lidded.  Éponine huffs out a laugh. 

“Do you get it now?” she teases, reaching out and gently tucking Cosette’s hair behind her ear. 

“I do,” Cosette whispers, and pulls Éponine into a tight hug.  Cosette tucks her head into Éponine’s neck and presses a kiss against her skin, and Éponine lets herself melt into Cosette’s arms, warmth flooding through her. 

Éponine smiles into Cosette’s hair and hums into her ear. 

***

 _At least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love._  

**Author's Note:**

> come and visit me @cantando-siempre.tumblr.com  
> hope you enjoyed! leave comments + kudos if you did!


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